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The words pour out of my mouth like poison to my fragile mind.
“Am I supposed to be afraid of your sadistic games or my own tears? Because I can start pleading now if that’s what makes you hard.”
Mark hisses a warning for me to stop taunting him, but I fail to care. This feels worse than death, worse than anything I ever lived through before. The helplessness, the rage, the anxious energy, demanding to do something.
“Careful, Cassandra, or I might join your masters and help you learn some respect.” His malicious tone echoes in the space, but my heartbeats steady and slow as if I’m under the spell of my own making.
I snort at him, craving to dig my nails into his throat, but they clipped them short, so I won’t hurt any of them. “You’ll have to use every trick in your sadistic mind games book to achieve that. Respect is earned not beaten into a person. I can make a good actor if I have to, but you’ll always know the truth. I despise you, and my respect is just a survival instinct.”
His face transforms, and dark eyes like opals start to glow with sadistic fire from within. “Careful, Cassandra.”
But even if I see the monster rising to the surface, I can’t help but taunt him more.
“What is it, Lester, your control is slipping or your mask?”
You can hear a pin drop as everyone waits for his reaction. But the fury boiling inside of me is a demanding force. This bastard who threatened my children, kidnapped and degraded me, needs to die, or he’ll destroy us. And what is the best way to ruin a person? Make them watch these monsters rape, abuse, and degrade your beloved one screaming for help.
So, I do what he told me not to.
I stand on my shaky feet, tingling with pins and needles from kneeling this long, and then kick off the heels, straightening my spine. Lester gawks at me rebelling against him, probably for the very last time. I want to feel physical pain grander than the fear coiling inside of me, slowly unmaking me.
When he menacingly steps closer, I move toward the bed with all the shackles and toys arranged for me. I sit at the end of it, crossing my legs, and curl my lips into a sardonic smile. He stops when he realizes I’m no longer his property, nor my christening into slavery is his to claim.
My lips curl into a satisfying smirk. “Too late,” I speak, holding on to that small victory like it’s my anchor. But when he strides toward me, I can feel his anger plowing into me.
Lester’s hand shoots out, then he reaches me, wrapping like claws around my throat. Dark eyes blazing with sadistic intent to cause me agony.
But he lets me go as the screams and chaos erupt behind the walls.
Assaulting explosion blasts through the mansion like thunder, shaking the foundation and surrounding us like hostages in its angry belly. Layers of dust rain down on us, walls shake, and screams and shouts reverberate from behind the walls. Everyone starts to run for an exit like rats from the sinking ship. But not me.
Using the distraction, I dash toward Mark. My heart thrashes in my ribcage as I try to free him from the leather binds. I tug at his bonds, but they don’t come off. Fuck! Too many hooks. I need a knife! I find one methodically placed on the table next to the cross. My blood chills, thinking of what gruesome things they meant to do with it.
“Cassandra, watch out.”
I seize a whip and crack it, trying to keep Lester away from us. Dust like smoke saturates the room until it’s starting to get hard to breathe or even see. The lights blink, and the room shrouds into darkness, and I begin to panic.
“Mark.” I grab that tool looking like it’s meant for torture and start cutting.
“Cassandra, you need to go,” he groans at me as my tears blur my vision and dust burns my retinas. “Lovebird, go, save yourself.”
I keep working, knowing none of us will leave this place alive. Yes! One of the cuffs comes off. Before I can work on the other one, Lester yanks back my hair. I yelp in pain, losing the knife.
“You heard your lover.” And then he throws me into the wall.
Stunned, I gasp, blinking as the sharp pain explodes down my arm and on the side of my face, rendering me speechless. When emergency lights come back on, I feel blood trickle down my face like vivid paint, splashing on the canvas of ashes.
“You know what’s funny?” he asks, not caring for his safety or that someone’s demolishing this place. “That you still don’t know the truth.” His opal pits sparkle, relishing in my confusion as if he’s about to fracture my world with his words.
He cranes his neck to look at Mark. “Your heart will slowly die in my arms.” He cocks a gun at me. “As I slowly and painfully choke the life out of her.” He trashes in his binds as a fear to lose me brings a new surge of strength.
My nostrils flare, watching him covered in dust, thrashing in his binds. So damn helpless, like a wounded animal. And I realize the extent of terror he lived through as a child.
“Come with me, or I’ll kill him, right here, right now,” he seethes.
“Don’t do it, Cassandra, think of your children,” he roars and then howls in pain as Lester grabs a whip from the floor where I lost it and cracks it. My heart splinters, reacting to his suffering, as I watch horrified his blood trickling down his body.
“Just stop, stop it. I’ll come with you! Look around, Lester, they’re going to bury us here. Run, save yourself. Leave Mark be!”
